


The Trevelyan Paradox

by dreadwolftakeme



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Kissing, F/F, Frottage, M/M, Modern Thedas, Roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/pseuds/dreadwolftakeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian Pavus and Evie Trevelyan are second year chemistry students at the University of Orlais. When Evie's brother, Max, comes to stay with them, Dorian finds himself falling for the  man. Of course, nothing in his life is ever that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mr. Duplicity

I

Mr. Duplicity

 

Evie turned down her music as she approached their door, shopping bag in one hand and gym gear slung over her shoulder. Despite only having a morning’s worth of lectures that day, she’d still been busy. She’d managed a couple of hours of study in the library after lunch, followed by a workout then pilates in the gym and, finally, stopping at the supermarket on the way home. She was ready for a glass of wine and, if fate was kind, a nice relaxing evening. However, the moment she saw Rilienus slipping out of the flat, she knew something was amiss.

“Hi, Ril,” she said warily, taking in the older man’s grim expression, the cagey way he was holding himself. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today.”

Rilienus opened his mouth hastily, something heated clearly on the tip of his tongue. However, he simply settled for an inelegant snort before shaking his head and stalking off in the direction of the stairs. Evie groaned: this was not a good sign.

“Dorian?” she called, as she made her way inside, nudging the door shut behind her with her hip. “Dorian, where are you?”

She found her flatmate in the kitchen, looking visibly agitated and pouring himself a glass of wine. He started when he noticed her, as though he’d genuinely not heard her calling his name.

“Ah, Evie,” he greeted her, in a falsely cheerful voice. “I was wondering when you’d be home.”

Evie set down her bags on the counter.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “I just saw Rilienus in the hallway. He seemed really out of sorts.”

Dorian didn’t answer he straight away, quaffing the entire glass of wine in several, long gulps. When he’d drained it, he set the empty glass back down on the counter and huffed out a sigh that seemed to deflate him.  

“We had a bit of a row,” he muttered. “More than a row, really. We broke up. For good, this time.”

“Oh, Dorian.”

Evie couldn’t deny a part of her was relieved. Rilienus had been stringing Dorian along for nearly six months, their relationship as turbulent as it was passionate. He wasn’t good for Dorian and, whilst she wasn’t sorry he’d gone, she hated to see her friend upset. She folded him into a hug, pressing a sisterly kiss to hair at his temple. Dorian held her tight, sighing against her shoulder.

“You were right,” he mumbled, and the way his voice cracked on the last syllable made Evie’s heart ache.

“For what it’s worth, I wish I wasn’t. Do you want to talk about it?”

She let him go but didn’t go far, keeping him in her line of sight as she began to unpack the shopping. Dorian sank onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar and poured himself another glass.

“It would seem he’s finally caved to parental pressure,” he spat. “He’s getting married. To one of the girls his mother picked out for him.”

Evie groaned. “I’m so sorry, Dorian,” she sighed.

Dorian waved her off absently, plucking a second glass from the cupboard and pouring for her too.

“The worst part was, he said I should do the same! As if I moved all the way here to get away from my parents just to turn around and give in to them now!”

“Plus, you don’t like women,” added Evie. “I didn’t think he did either, come to think of it…”

Her flatmate rolled his eyes and took another hearty gulp of his wine.

“He’s fucked a few, that’s all I know,” he shrugged. Then, in a mocking voice he added, “‘ _We can still see each other. Dorian!_ ’ Please! As if I’m going to be a married man’s dirty little secret!”

He made to drain the glass again but Evie reached out and caught his hand, stopping him.

“Easy,” she murmured. “We have lectures in the morning and he’s not worth the hangover.”

“Perhaps not but still-”

“But nothing,” she said, firmly. “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself – not over him. I bought some pancetta at the supermarket. How about I fix us a nice risotto and we can veg on the sofa with something trashy?”

Dorian gave her a look that was half-sceptical, half-exasperated

“There’s ice cream too,” Evie added.

That did it. Dorian chuckled, a single tear trickling down his cheek. He scrubbed it away hastily, sniffing, offering her a strained smile.

“Whatever would I do without you?”

 

*

 

“Don’t.”

Evie lifted her head off Dorian’s shoulder to glare at him, fixing him with her sternest look. His hand had been inching for his phone all evening and she’d taken it upon herself to save him from the temptation to text a certain someone.

“I was just going to check the time!” her friend protested, though he did look a bit sheepish. Snatching his fingers back, he glanced at the pile of dishes on the coffee table and huffed a weary little sigh.

“They’ll wait until morning,” Evie yawned, shutting off the TV. “I’ll be up early anyway.”

She sat up, stretching out her spine. Beside her, Dorian too muffled a yawn and reluctantly began to move.

“Wake me, won’t you?” he mumbled, as he got to his feet. “You know I detest morning lectures.

Evie nodded and was about to wish him goodnight when her phone chimed of the table in front of her.

“Isabela?” asked Dorian and she didn’t need to look up from the screen to see his suggestive smirk. She’d hoped to hear from the Rivaini today but she was surprised to find the message was from someone else entirely.

“It’s my brother!” she exclaimed. “He’s coming back early.”

Her older brother Max – the only one of her siblings she ever really bothered with – had been backpacking all over Thedas for the last three months. She hadn’t expected him back for another two weeks.

“He’s cutting his trip short,” she muttered, as she skimmed the rather lengthy message. “And he’s looking for a place to stay – says he doesn’t want to go back to Mum and Dad’s”

Evie glanced up hopefully at Dorian but immediately regretted it. The man was going through a break-up. Surely the last thing he wanted was an unexpected guest, even if it was family.

To her surprise, however, Dorian simply shrugged.

“I don’t mind a little extra company,” he said reasonably. “It might be a pleasant distraction. Providing this is the nice brother, yes?”

“Yeah,” Evie laughed. “Or as nice as any of my siblings are, at least. Are you sure you don’t mind? He says it won’t be for long.”

“Not at all. It will be nice to meet him at last.”

They said their goodnights and Evie headed to her room unable to contain her smile. It had been too long since she’d seen Maxwell and she couldn’t wait to hear all about his latest adventures. Knowing her brother, there would be plenty to tell.


	2. I'm In Trouble Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian indulges in a little retail therapy and Evie's brother arrives in Orlais.

II

I’m In Trouble Again

 

Despite his insistence that Rilienus had been nothing more than an idle distraction, it took a few days for Dorian to even out after their break-up. He’d admit he’d let himself slip a little. Maker, he’d gone – or rather, been dragged out - to lunch in sweatpants and a hoodie, for pity’s sake. Him, in sportswear! Outside of the flat!

After several days of moping, for there really was no denying that’s what he’d been doing, he’d decided enough was enough. He’d taken a long bath, spruced himself up and hit Val Royeaux’s city centre for a much-needed dose of retail therapy. Now, with his wallet lighter but his arms weighed down with numerous new additions to his wardrobe, he was feeling considerably better about himself. Screw Rilienus. If he wanted to sit at his parents’ heels like a good little pup, well, more fool him. It was his loss.

He was contemplating heading back to the flat  for lunch when he felt a buzz in his pocket. The sensation reminded him of the other thing he’d treated himself to – a rather spectacular new toy for his collection – and he smirked. The notification was a text message from Evie. 

 **< 11.19>** Are you still in the city? If so, come and meet me at Gaspard’s. There’s someone I want you to meet! x

Dorian frowned at the screen for a moment, wondering who she could possibly be talking about. Then he recalled that Evie had gone to collect her brother from the airport that morning. So, the infamous Maxwell had landed, had he? Dorian had heard all sorts about Evie’s older sibling during their friendship but he’d yet to meet the man. If half of the stories were true, he should be good for a laugh, if nothing else.

 **< 11:21>** Be there in 5 x

He fired off a quick reply before slipping his phone back into his pocket and setting off for the café.

Gaspard’s was a popular hangout for students in the city. Close to the main street, it was an eclectic little place that served decent food without the extortionate prices that one often found in Val Royeaux. The décor was cutesy and vintage, all scrubbed wooden floors and mismatched chairs, patterned china and glass chandeliers. Evie was sitting was on a squashy leather sofa when he arrived, next to a man who was likely her brother. Not that Dorian could tell. He had long, unkempt hair and a face full of scruff that wasn’t quite a beard but could hardly be called artful stubble either. It took all of Dorian’s good breeding not to stop and stare. Maker, he looked like a vagrant!

“Dorian!”

Evie all but jumped to her feet when she saw him, weaving through the tables to fold him into a friendly hug.

“Someone’s looking dapper today,” she murmured in his ear. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Then, taking his arm, she led him to where she was sitting. “Dorian, I’d like you to meet my brother Max. Max, this is my flatmate and ever so handsome friend, Dorian.”

Maxwell Trevelyan held out his large and rather grubby-looking hand. Dorian shook it, his stomach clenched in distaste, though he tried not to show it.

 

“Nice to meet you at last,” Max grinned, his green eyes lighting up. They were precisely the same shade and shape as Evie’s and, honestly, had it not been for that, Dorian would never have guessed they were related. “Do forgive the state of me. I’ve come straight from the jungles in the south of Rivain. Not much by the way of grooming.”

“Not at all,” Dorian replied, plastering on a well-practised smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you too. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

Maxwell laughed at that, a surprisingly pleasant sound that made his eyes glitter.

“Don’t believe half of what you’ve heard,” he muttered, and he side-eyed Evie with a wry smirk. “My sister likes to exaggerate.”

“I don’t need to exaggerate anything you do,” chuckled Evie.  She pulled her purse from her handbag, tilting her head inquiringly at Dorian. “Coffee?”

Dorian glanced at the table, noting their almost empty cups.

“To go, perhaps?” he suggested. “I don’t know about you but I skipped breakfast and I’m utterly famished.”

“I won’t complain,” smiled Max. “Especially not if Evie’s cooking. It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Oh. I’m sure I can rustle something up.”

After Evie had bought him a caramel latte to go, they made their way back to her car and then back to flat. Dorian had to try very hard to pretend that Evie’s little mini didn’t reek of unwashed man. Thankfully, they didn’t live too far outside of the city centre and he didn’t have to endure it for too long.

“Here we are,” the redhead exclaimed, as they pulled up on the forecourt. “How does it feel to know you won’t be sleeping in a tent tonight?”

Max chuckled, circling the car and retrieving his large, weather-beaten backpack from the trunk of the car.

“I didn’t really mind the tents,” he shrugged with a lop-sided smile. “It’s the running water I’ve missed.”

They headed inside, Dorian gladly leading the way up the stairs to their first-floor flat.

“Well, if you’re that eager, you can go ahead and use the bathroom whilst I’m fixing us some lunch. How does that sound?”

“Heavenly,” Max groaned. Dorian was inclined to agree. There was only so long he out u with such an earthy odour without comment.

He headed straight into the kitchen, ditching his shopping bags on the counter and leaving Evie to give her brother a quick tour. His latte was doing a decent job of lining his empty stomach but he was still hungry. Peeking into the fridge, he noticed it was considerably more well-stocked than usual. He sniffed at the little container of stuffed olives, rummaging around until he found a box of honey and sesame bars. They were small and sweet and would be just the thing to keep him happy until lunch.

“Hey, don’t you eat all of those,” Evie teased, as she slipped into the room. She giggled at the way he jumped, patting him fondly on the shoulder when he glared at her.

“I’ll have you know I’m famished,” he frowned. “I’ve not had a thing all day.”

“Well, more fool you,” she chided, though it was followed quickly by a grin. “Don’t worry, I’m making a feast for lunch. Max needs feeding up, he’s lost weight.”

“He… has your eyes,” Dorian commented, trying to be nice. Evie laughed.

“Everyone says that,” she beamed. “Personally, I think it’s the only real similarity between us both but I guess it’s hard to tell underneath all that fuzz.”

No kidding, Dorian thought.

“So, what have you been buying?” his flatmate went on. “You didn’t tell me you were going shopping.”

“Spur of the moment decision, my dear,” shrugged Dorian, settling down on a barstool with his latte and his cake. “I decided enough was enough and I went and treated myself.”

Evie flashed him an approving smile.

“Good for you! Let’s have a look then.”

She reached for his shopping bags and Dorian didn’t think a thing of letting her rummage through his stuff until he realised just which bag she’d picked up first.

“Ah, darling, perhaps not that one…” he began. However, he could tell from her sudden blush and the widening of her eyes that his warning was in vain.

“Oh!” she exclaimed and Dorian found himself holding his breath. Evie was no prude but even between friends, there were limits. Thankfully, she simply smirked and raised her eyebrows at him. “You really _have_ treated yourself,” she grinned. “Move over, Rilienus!”

“He did nothing for me I can’t do for myself,” Dorian winked, and he laughed when Evie gave him a flat stare. “Oh alright, perhaps a couple of things but I can do without those.”

“I’m sure. Well, just make sure you lock your door this time. I’m very delicate, you know.”

“That was one time, Evie,” Dorian muttered, feeling his cheeks flush at the memory. He’d left his door ajar in his haste for a little relief and poor Evie had just wandered on in and… well, they both took to knocking more after that.

“Well, one time was more than enough for me, thank you,” the redhead laughed. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling a little better, at least,” she added, with an altogether gentler smile. “Just give me a heads u if I need to put on some music.

Dorian laughed and lifted his honey cake to his lips. “You’ve not heard me yet, have you?” he smirked, grinning when she giggled.

After he’d done with his coffee, the Tevinter gave Evie a hand with their lunch. He was admittedly not much of a cook, so he stuck to the simple things like tearing leaves and chopping vegetables for the salad. Evie, meanwhile, was preparing them a rather scrumptious looking ravioli and she’d bought a tiramisu from the fancy Antivan bakery that morning.

“It’s a wonder I’ve not gone up a size since we started living together,” Dorian noted, when she pressed a morsel of cheese to his lips. “As it is, my favourite jeans only just fit me.”

It didn’t stop him from eating it though, groaning with delight at the rich, sharp tang. Evie nudged his hip playfully.

“You get enough exercise,” she winked. “By which I mean the gym,” she added with a laugh at his scandalised expression.

It didn’t take them long to have a fresh and hearty lunch prepared. Their guest, however, still hadn’t made an appearance.

“I wonder what’s taking him so long?” Evie wondered, as she went about setting their tiny dining table.

Dorian couldn’t imagine. He didn’t seem like the sort of man to spend a deal of time primping, that was for certain. Perhaps his wild mane of hair had gotten caught on the shower curtain? Or he’d run out of soap? It was entirely possible, given how grimy he’d been.

Evie had set the table and poured them all drinks, and was just about to go looking for her brother when he wandered into the kitchen.

“Sorry, sorry,” Maxwell apologised. “I tried to be quick but took me a little while to de-jungle.”

Dorian had a glass of wine midway to his lips and he almost dropped it at the sight of him. Gone was the grubby, unkempt man he’d met in the café. Hair freshly trimmed and beard shaved, Maxwell Trevelyan was a veritable hunk and it was all he could do to keep from gawping like a goldfish. The fact that he was shirtless didn’t much help. Dorian let his eyes rake down the man’s toned, tanned torso, noting with appreciation the smattering of chest hair and the handful of silver scars that only served to make him more appealing.

Kaffas…

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” chuckled Max, noticing and entirely misinterpreting Dorian’s stare. “I somehow took everything into the bathroom but my shirt. Can you give me a minute to grab one? You don’t have to wait for me or anything.”

“No problem,” Evie smiled. “I just thought you’d gotten lost. You look better for shaving off that ridiculous beard.”

Max chuckled.

“Thanks, sis,” he snorted. “I’ll be right back. You two tuck in.”

He sauntered back out of the door again and Dorian watched from the corner of his eye. Maker, the way the man’s jeans sat just so on his hips was utterly tantalising. He glanced back to the table to find Evie smirking at him, her expression nothing short of gleeful.

“What?” asked Dorian, innocently. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, no reason,” Evie murmured. “I was just concerned that your jaw was going to hit the table.”

Dorian coughed into his win glass, determined not to blush.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? So you weren’t just ogling my brother like he was a piece of prime meat?”

The Tevinter opened his mouth to retort but he cut himself off as Max ambled back into the room, wearing a black t-shirt and tying his hair into a loose ponytail.

“Sorry about that,” he chirruped, taking a seat between Dorian and his sister. “So, what are we having?”

He caught Dorian’s eye across the table, an easy smile curling his plump lips. Vishante kaffas, he was incredibly attractive. How Dorian had missed it before, he didn’t know. Even beneath all that facial fuzz, those cheekbones should have been obvious. And that smile!

This was certainly going to be interesting.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's wondering, the chapter titles are all references to songs/song titles. ^_^


	3. Am I Squeezing You Too Tight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie is feeling doubtful about her relationship with Isabela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to hedgehogtier(@maharielofficial) as I might have stolen his kickass warden for a little cameo in this chapter! ^_^ I hope he doesn't mind! 
> 
> Also, I edited this whilst the kids were about so I'm sorry if I missed anything!

III

Am I Squeezing You Too Tight?

 

                                                                                                                  

“Why kitten, it’s almost like you planned this.”

Isabela rested her chin on Evie’s shoulder, her arms wrapping around the smaller redhead’s waist.  From the doorway, they watched as Max and Dorian sat at opposite ends of the couch, relaxed and chatting amiably over drinks and card games.

It had been almost a week since the day that Evie had picked up her brother, and he and Dorian were getting along like two peas in a pod. Which was surprising, as neither of them were exactly each other’s type. Dorian was a little fussier than the men Max usually went for and Maxwell was certainly rougher around the edges that what Dorian seemed to prefer. And yet it seemed to be working for them. Not only had they been friendly from the get go, Evie had detected some definite flirtation. The both denied it whenever she asked them – “Don’t be ridiculous, darling, he’s your brother! I would never!” and “Come off it, Evie, we’re just being nice. Isn’t that a good thing?” – but she wasn’t blind. It was an interesting turn of events.

Now, watching them laughing together at one of Max’s stories, she didn’t know how much longer they could deny their interest in one another.

“Don’t be silly, Bela,” she smiled, as Max topped up Dorian’s glass. “I couldn’t have planned it – I didn’t exactly know he was coming home. Though I won’t deny, when I heard he was, I really hoped they’d hit it off. Especially after what that arsehole Rilienus put him through.”

Isabela laughed, pressing a kiss to Evie’s neck that made her shiver in the Rivaini’s arms.

“They certainly look good together,” she admitted. “Mmm, now there’s a sandwich I’d like to be the filling in…”

“Bela, ew! That’s my brother. And I don’t think Dorian’s so much as kissed a woman in his life, drunken party games aside.

“Ah well,” sighed Isabela, dramatically. “Lucky for me I have the prettier Trevelyan to console me.”

Smirking, she slipped around to stand in front of Evie, cupping the redhead’s chin and lifting her lips to meet her own. Her kiss was light, the merest brush of a butterfly’s wings. Evie moaned and rose onto her tiptoes to chase the contact. Her breasts pressed against Isabela’s, stirring her passion, and she tangled her fingers in her lover’s lustrous locks.

“I’m usually for a little girl-on-girl action,” Maxwell called from the sofa. “However, seeing as that’s my baby sister you’re pawing, would you two mind terribly getting a room?”

“Oh leave the lovebirds alone,” laughed Dorian. “Besides, this is nothing. Believe me, I’ve seen much worse.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to know, thank you.”

Dorian cackled and began to recount the time he’d come home from work early to find them getting busy in the kitchen, much to Max’s horror. Isabela gave Evie a comparably chaste peck on the cheek before pulling away.

“I have to go, kitten,” she murmured, and Evie whined.

“What? Aren’t you staying for dinner?

“I can’t, I’m working the bar this evening. But I’m DJing tomorrow night – you guys should come.”

Evie uttered a non-committal hum. Going to one of Bela’s gigs wasn’t really the same as spending quality time with her. They could barely hear each other in noisy nightclubs and the Rivaini was often too swamped with admirers to chat anyway.

She walked her girlfriend to the door, where Bela gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

“Trust me, you don’t want me here anyway,” she said, with what was clearly meant to be a reassuring smile. “I’m terrible at family stuff. Text me about tomorrow though, yeah? If you’re coming, I’ll get you all on the VIP list.”

She gave Evie a brief but enthusiastic kiss before disappearing off down the hallway. Evie closed the door after her. She could feel a weight settling in her chest as she wandered back into the flat. It was becoming something of a trend, Isabela skipping out on her, especially when it came down to hanging out with friends or family. She was starting to wonder how serious the Rivaini could possibly be about her if she never wanted to be involved in her life beyond sex and parties.

Max and Dorian had moved into the kitchen by the time she returned. Max was hanging around in front of the oven, peeking at the lasagne that was bubbling away in there. Dorian glanced up upon seeing her and he frowned at her expression.  

“Oh dear, that’s not a happy face,” he commented. “Something wrong?”

He poured her a glass of wine and she took it with a silent nod of thanks, leaning against the breakfast bar beside him.

“I honestly don’t know,” she murmured. “I just… sometimes it’s like she has a dozen places she’d rather be than with me, you know?”

Dorian hummed sympathetically and snaked an arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s it at all,” he said, kindly. “Perhaps you two simply need a quiet night alone together, hm?”

“I’m trying, believe me,” Evie sighed, and she raised her glass to her lips, relishing the heady, full-bodied flavour. As ever, Dorian had excellent taste in wine. “She’s DJing at Moda tomorrow night. Told me she can get us on the VIP list if you want to go.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to a club,” Max grinned. “It could be fun.”

“Oh?” asked Dorian. “No nightlife on your travels?”

“A few bars but nothing like the clubs they have here. I’m up for a night out if you are?”

Dorian nodded, turning his cheerful, white-toothed grin in Evie’s direction.

“What do you say, Evie darling? Shall we grace them with our presence?”

Evie sighed.

 

*

 

Saturdays were the day Evie usually set aside for catching up with her work. Dorian had his shift at the university library and her brother had spent most of the day snoring on the couch. After spending most of the day with her head buried in books on electrodynamics, Evie found she was more than ready for a night out.

Dorian arrived home from work at six and he brought their dinner with him. The booze came out, the sound system went on and Evie’s spirits were greatly lifted as they got ready.

“Evie, sweet, did you borrow my notes on the Feynman Lectures?”

Dorian swept into her room as she was deciding what to wear, looking resplendent in purple and black. Evie eyed the exceptionally tight fit of his trousers and smirked.

“Well, well,” she grinned. “Don’t you look dashing! It’s almost as though you’re trying to impress someone…”

Her flatmate’s lips twitched under his moustache.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sniffed, though his eyes glimmered. “I happen to _alway_ s look dashing. Now my notes, if you don’t mind?”

“They’re here,” Evie chuckled, and she wandered over to her desk. Dorian’s neatly filed notes were on to of a pile of papers and she handed them back with a word of thanks.

“How did you get on?” he asked, as he perched on the edge of her bed. Evie made a pained, indecisive sort of noise. Electrodynamics weren’t her favourite field of physics nor her strongest. Mercifully, Dorian took to it like a duck to water and he was patient enough to help her when she struggled.

“Never mind,” he soothed. “You’ll get there.”

Evie circled back over to the wardrobe.

“I finished the assignment, at least,” she sighed, as she flipped through the rail of clothing. “I don’t think I could enjoy myself tonight if I had that hanging over my head.”

She plucked a teal coloured skater dress of its coat-hanger and held it up against herself. It was a little on the casual side but with the right pair of shoes and a little jewellery, she was sure she could make it work. Dorian, however, pulled a face.

“Oh no,” he scoffed. “Put that back. I know you can do better than that.”

The redhead found herself shunted aside, watching with a wry smile as the Tevinter rifled through her wardrobe, muttering to himself.

“Hmm, I think someone’s in need of a little shopping trip,” he commented. “Some of these are a little young for you – ah! Now _that_ will do nicely!”

He pulled out an altogether racier black dress with a flourish and a bounce of his eyebrows. Evie winced at the plunging neckline. She’d bought it a few months ago, loving the black lace and the flattering cut. Yet she’d never worn it, worried that it was just a bit too revealing.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit much?” she worried.

Dorian grinned.

“Don’t be absurd,” he assured her. “In fact, I think it’s perfect. She won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.”

A blush coloured Evie’s cheeks.

“Am I that obvious?” she groaned and Dorian chuckled.

“Not at all. I just know you by now. Now hurry up and get dressed. Your brother just went to buy tequila, of all things, and I’m not getting dragged into doing shots with him by myself.”

“Are you sure?” Evie teased. “That sounds like exactly the sort of thing you might enjoy.”

“Quiet you,” the Tevinter chided. However, he couldn’t quite keep the gleam of excitement out of his eyes.

Evie watched him leave, feeling second-hand excitement bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Her own relationship woes would not stop her being happy if her brother and her dearest friend got together. Of course, that did depend entirely on how loud they were about it.

A little while later, Evie emerged from her room fully dressed and made-up. Max and Dorian were in the kitchen, the latter looking on reluctantly as her brother was pouring out generous shots of tequila. Max was the first to notice her and he almost choked on his drink.  

“Maker’s arse, Evie!” he spluttered, thumping himself on the chest. “Is that what you’re wearing?!”

Evie cringed internally but she refused to be cowed.

“What about it?” she asked, with a defiant glare. Max withered a little, gesturing vaguely in the region of her chest.

“It’s a bit… busty,” he pointed out, eventually. “Don’t you think?” He turned to Dorian, obviously expecting support. Dorian, however, simply flashed him a serene smile.

“I think she looks magnificent,” he declared and Evie beamed. “The Maker didn’t bless her with a rack like that to have her hide it under frumpy sweaters. If you’ve got it, darling, flaunt it.”

Max sighed, pouring himself another shot and one for Evie.

“Alright,” he conceded. “But if someone so much as looks at you a second too long, I won’t hesitate to deck them, ok?”

“How very chivalrous,” Dorian smirked. Max stuck out his tongue at the Tevinter before sliding a shot glass across the counter towards Evie.

“Here, catch up. We’ve had two already and the taxi’s on its way.”

Evie eyed the shot warily. The last time she’d drank tequila, things had gotten rather messy.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged, and she knocked back the bitter liquid in one smooth motion. Maxwell grinned.

“Atta girl,” he laughed. “Shit, this is going to be a riot.”

 

*

 

Moda was thrumming when they arrived, with people queuing round the block to get in. Thankfully they didn’t have to join the line. The doormen let them straight in and they headed up the stairs to the first floor club.

It was a canvas of white – the walls, the furnishings, the dancefloor – painted with colour from the myriad of lights, all in different hues, that shone down from the ceiling. Not for the first time, Evie had to question the choice of upholstery in a night club, of all places, but she couldn’t deny it looked pretty.

The DJ booth was at the very back and Evie left Dorian and Max at the bar to seek out Isabela. It was already busy and she had to elbow her way through the crowds to get there. When at last she spotted her, her face crumpled in irritation. The Rivaini had two men up there with them, both of them elven, both of them attractive. The blonde was murmuring in Isabela’s ear whilst his handsome, red-haired friend was sitting on her lap, sharing a luridly orange cocktail. All three of them seemed very cosy and, just like that, Evie’s confidence faltered. She felt ridiculous standing there in her obvious, attention-grabbing dress, for having primped herself up and for what? Isabela didn’t seem to be missing her. Isabela never seemed to be missing her. She was beginning to wonder where exactly this thing between them was headed…

Annoyed, she turned right around and headed back to the bar. 

“What are you drinking?” Max shouted, over the thumping bass of the music.

“Long Island,” Evie called back. Her brother raised his brows but he didn’t question her as he leaned over the bar and added her drink to his order.


	4. Lay My Hands On Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few drinks, Dorian finally succumbs to the temptation that is Maxwell Trevelyan.

IV

Lay My Hands On Heaven

 

Dorian couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself at a club as much as he was doing that night. In his first year, they’d been a regular haunt, with him and his friends heading downtown several times a week. However, after starting his second and more serious year of study – and, if he was honest, whilst dating Rilienus – his wild nights out had become less frequent.

With a drink in his hand and a near permanent smile on his face, he was beginning to rediscover the exhilaration of losing himself in cocktails and loud music. The company, too, was exceptional. Maxwell had been charming and playfully flirtatious all night –indeed, with every drink he downed, it was getting harder and harder for Dorian to resist his charms.

“Where’s Evie?” the Trevelyan asked into Dorian’s ear. He was dancing right behind Dorian, their bodies not touching, though the space between them was crackling with energy. Dorian frowned. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Evie for some time. She’d seemed in a shitty mood since they arrived, not really speaking and drinking far more than she normally would. It wasn’t like her.

“Perhaps we should go and check the bar?” suggested Dorian, shouting to be heard over the music. “She seems intent on getting giddy tonight.”

“Good idea,” Max grinned. “Looks like you’re in need of a refill anyway.”

Dorian frowned, looking down at his glass, which still had a good third left. However, Max leaned in, draining the last of his Mojito and handing him back the empty vessel with a wink. He took Dorian by his free hand, making his stomach lurch excitedly as he was dragged back to the bar. Maker, he’d been doing it all evening: little touches here and there, lingering looks and rumbling whispers in his ear. It was driving Dorian crazy. His entire body was hypersensitive, analysing every sensation, adding it to softly simmering heat that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. And of course, the alcohol only served to amplify it all. He had to wonder if that was the reason Max was happy to ply him with drinks. If it was, he couldn’t say he minded.

“Two more mojitos, please,” Maxwell called to the bartender, as he relieved Dorian of his empty glass and set it on the bar. There was no sign of Evie, though it was hard to see much in the bustling crowds.

“Maybe she’s gone to speak with her lady love?” Dorian wondered aloud. He leaned against the bar and his heart skipped in excitement when Max sidled right up next to him.

“Could be,” he smirked. “We’ll have one more drink and then go looking. She won’t be far away.”

Dorian nodded in agreement, trying to keep his composure as they waited for their cocktails. It was easier said than done, especially when Max’s right hand grazed shamelessly over the curve of Dorian’s ass. The Tevinter raised his brows at the other’s boldness, unable to refrain from grinning. Max simply squeezed in response before his hand retreated, diving into his pockets for his wallet. His little ploys were undeniably effective. Dorian couldn’t take his eyes off him as he paid for their drinks and, when he took him by the hand again, he felt as though he might evaporate.

“Come on,” Max murmured, his green eyes bright and mischievous. “Let’s dance. I like this song.”

Dorian let himself be pulled back onto the dancefloor, just as an RnB track with a hypnotically rhythmic bass line started to play. Max sidled up behind him, the arm that wasn’t holding his glass wrapping around Dorian’s waist and pressing them both together. Dorian’s breath caught; he was half hard.

They began to move together, their hips rolling in a lazy grind.

“I’m surprised, you know,” Max murmured, his breath hot against Dorian’s ear. “I didn’t think a posh Tevinter boy would be into this sort of music.”

“My dear Maxwell,” chuckled Dorian. “You would be surprised by what I’m into.”

He pushed back against Maxwell’s burgeoning erection, grinning when the man moaned.

“Promises, promises,” Max growled. “You have an exceptional arse, by the way. I suspect I’m not the first to tell you so.”

Teasing, he ran the tip of his nose up Dorian’s neck, breath tickling, lips mere millimetres away from his heated skin. When he reached the ear, he tugged the lobe gently with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Dorian whined.

“Ah! No,” he panted, “But I never tire of hearing it.”

The pleasure went straight to his cock and he felt himself stiffening within his tight trousers. It was a small mercy that his shirt covered his crotch, not that he imagined anyone would notice. They were surrounded by people but it may as well have been the two of them. Or perhaps it was simply the drink making him bold? He couldn’t be sure but one thing was for certain: even after two years away from Tevinter, flirting in public was still _thrilling_. 

The music intensified and Max’s hand inched under his shirt, one finger toying with the waistband of Dorian’s trousers. His lips grazed Dorian’s jaw. Dorian turned, eyes half-lidded, drunk on rum and his growing arousal. Their mouths met for the briefest of seconds before Max pulled away, chuckling.

“Tease,” accused Dorian. He turned in Max’s arms, lacing the fingers of his free hand around the taller man’s neck.  It brought their clothed erections together and, Maker, the gasp that Maxwell uttered was delectable.

“Look who’s talking,” he growled, resting his forehead against Dorian’s. Dorian simply smirked, not rising to the temptation of sneaking a kiss, though he desperately wanted to.  They were still moving in time to the music, hips grinding and hot breath mingling. When the song ended, Max was the first to break. He cupped the back of Dorian’s neck and crushed their mouths together in a greedy, demanding kiss. Dorian moaned. He kissed him back with equal ferocity, relishing the heat that coursed like a drug through his body.

When they pulled apart, they were both panting.

“Let’s find somewhere more quiet, shall we?” Max suggested, with a salacious smile. Dorian gave a hum of delight.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he purred.

Dumping their drinks on a nearby table, Max took Dorian by the hand again and led him toward the right hand side of the club. It was quieter there, and darker too, with no light from the bar to cast its glow over them. They managed to find an empty booth in a corner and Max pulled Dorian down onto his lap.

“Maker, I could just fuck you right here and right now,” breathed Max, burying his face in Dorian’s neck. The Tevinter arched his back and resumed slowly grinding their hips together.

“I think I’d need a few more drinks before I went that far,” he smirked.

Maxwell nuzzled his jaw before bringing their lips together in another ravenous kiss. His hard cock rubbed against Dorian’s and, even through several layers of fabric, the sensation was utterly maddening. Dorian moaned into the other’s mouth, rubbing himself shamelessly against that prominent and rather generous erection. His mind was filled with thoughts of just how good that would feel in his hands, in his mouth, in his ass.

“Damn,” panted Max against his lips. “Oh, Dorian…”

The Tevinter smirked. He snaked a hand in between their undulating bodies and palmed Max’s length through the fabric of his jeans. Max groaned, bucking into the touch.

“A pity there’s no tablecloths,” Dorian purred. “I should have liked at closer look at this.”

His fingers flexed around Max’s shaft, eliciting another rumble of pleasure. Max’s eyes were dark with want now, his lips flushed and swollen. Long hair was spilling out of its neat ponytail and he looked like the very embodiment of sin, a demon sent to test him. Dorian could scarcely remember the last time he’d wanted someone so desperately. The temptation to throw caution to the wind and drag him into the bathroom was paramount… but no. He wasn’t that man; he refused to be _that man_.

Almost as if he was reading his mind, Max curled his fingers in the front of Dorian’s shirt. He pulled the Tevinter flush against him, free hand slipping down the back of Dorian’s pants

“I don’t know about you,” he muttered, and he gave Dorian’s arse a covetous squeeze, “But I’d very much like to get out of here. Preferably _before_ you make me cum in my pants.”

“Ah! I was just thinking… mmm… the same thing,” Dorian moaned. “I’m in danger of disgracing myself if we carry on.” 

In spite of his words, he couldn’t resist going in for another kiss, devouring the taste of smoke and mint from Max’s tongue. The hand that was kneading his backside kept their hips together, kept the delicious friction flowing. Dorian’s eyes rolled in pleasure. He could feel a damp spot forming in his boxers as pre-come seeped from the tip of his cock.

He was so engrossed in Maxwell that he didn’t notice they were no longer alone – not until he heard a woman clearing her throat, her voice rife with amusement.

“Sorry to spoil your fun,” Isabela announced, as the pair of them jerked apart. Amber eyes raked over them both, lingering on their laps, and she grinned. Dorian felt his cheeks flame. He tugged embarrassedly at the hem of his shirt in a futile attempt to cover himself. The Rivaini winked. “As delightful as this is, I’m afraid we have a problem.”

“Problem?”

Bela reached behind her and dragged a second, smaller woman into greater prominence. Evie staggered, apparently barely able to stand. She managed a single step before stumbling and falling onto the seat beside them with a high-pitched squeal.

“Kaffas!” Dorian exclaimed, momentarily forgetting his predicament and attempting to aid her. “She’s absolutely wasted!”

Evie flipped her mane of auburn curls out of her eyes. Her face brightened comically when she noticed the two men and she threw her arms around them both.

“Dorian!” she slurred. “Maxi! When’d you two gid here?”  

She flopped onto Dorian’s chest, burying her face in the collar of his shirt. Dorian stiffened.

“Ah, Evie, now’s not the best time…” he muttered, and he made a valiant attempt to peel her off him. Somehow, however, she only clung to him tighter.

“Shtop it,” came her muffled grumble. “’M sleepy.”

“Fuck,” Max muttered. “I knew she was a lightweight but this is something else. What happened?”

Isabela sighed and perched on the edge of their table.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve not seen much of her all night. I was headed to the bar when I found her with some perve who was about to cop a feel.”

Dorian felt Max tense beneath him and he glanced down to see the amusement draining out of the other man’s face.  

“Where?” he growled.

“It’s alright, I’ve already dealt with it.” Isabela picked idly at her freshly bloodied knuckles. “But you need to keep an eye on her. Or better yet, get her home. She’s in no fit state.”

She reached across to ruffle Evie’s hair, smiling when the redhead hummed happily into Dorian’s shoulder. Adoration warmed her caramel coloured eyes, plain on her face for anyone to see. Dorian glanced at Max and was met with a resigned expression.

“I guess we’d better go and get a taxi then,” he shrugged.

“Text me when you’re home safe?” the Rivaini asked, sliding off the table. “I’d take her home myself but I’m stuck here til the end of the night.”

“Of course,” Dorian assured her. As much as the interruption was disappointing, that they had a cast iron excuse to retreat to the flat was promising. Judging by the smirk that was forming on Maxwell’s lips, he was evidently not the only one to think so.

They bid their farewells to Isabela, who returned to the DJ booth and her plethora of admirers, though not before planting a kiss in her girlfriend’s hair.

“Home?” Dorian suggested, his tone coloured with intrigue. He got to his feet, heaving a reluctant Evie with him and thanking the Maker that his raging erection had subsided. Maxwell flashed him an impish smirk.

“Home,” he purred, and he snaked an arm around Dorian’s waist.

 

*

 

As they’d left before the end-of-night rush, they were thankfully able to get a taxi without much wait. They sat with Evie between them for the short journey back. Dorian suspected their shoulders were the only things keeping her upright. Indeed, while Max took care of paying the driver, Dorian was left with the task of heaving his drunken friend out of the taxi. It was no easy feat.

“I suppose this is somewhat my fault for being a rotten friend,” he reasoned, as Evie first tossed one shoe then the other out of the open car door. “I should have been keeping a better eye on you instead of making out with your brother.”

Evie’s only response was to tweak his aquiline nose before staggering off towards their building, singing and giggling to herself.

“Unbelievable,” Max chuckled, as he closed the taxi door. “Shall we get her to bed and see about picking up where we left off?”

“Absolutely,” purred Dorian. He could feel the embers of excitement sparking in his belly again as they headed inside. Maxwell went straight to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water whilst Dorian guided Evie to her bedroom, trying hard not to appear as impatient as he felt.

“D’you see her ruffle m’hair, Dori?” the redhead slurred happily, as he assisted her out of her dress. “Maybe she really does like me.”

“She adores you, sweetheart,” Dorian soothed. “That much is obvious. Now come on, into bed. You’ve had far too much to drink.”

Evie all but fell onto her mattress, giggling as she crawled inelegantly up to the headboard.

“Y’ra good friend,” she mumbled. “’M sorry t’ruin your fun.”

“My dear, if all goes well, my fun will have barely started.”

Evie cackled at that. The door opened and Max wandered in, squawking at the sight of his sister in naught but her underwear.

“Maker, you could have dressed her!” he groaned, as he hurried over to the bed. He handed her a large glass of water and was quick to cover her with the blankets. “Drink the lot,” he instructed her. “You’ll have a horrible headache come morning otherwise, trust me.”

Evie obeyed without question, draining the glass and slamming it down on the bedside table.

“Done!” she grinned. “There. ‘M in bed now. Y’can go fuck or what…whatever.”

“Bloody hell, Evie,” Max sighed. “For the love of the Maker, please, just go to sleep. I’m not used to seeing you like this.”

“You’d better adapt then,” she snorted. “’M no innoshent flower, y’know. I… I…”

She trailed off, suddenly going very still. Her emerald green eyes, already glassy from too much drink, lost the last of her focus and her pale skin somehow turned several shades whiter.

“Oh,” she muttered, before lurching over the side of her bed and vomiting all over the carpet.


	5. I Knew You Were Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie wakes up with a nasty hangover and blanks in her memory that Dorian is all-too-happy to fill in. Maxwell gets a strange visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you lovely creatures! :-* Sorry for the delay in updating - my kids have been off nursery the last fortnight and, Maker, finding time to write has been HELL. So if this chapter is a little off, I beg you forgive me.

V

I Knew You Were Trouble

 

Evie awoke to sunlight seeping through the gap in her curtains, stinging her eyes. Her head was throbbing and her mouth felt like sandpaper – and tasted significantly worse. She threw an arm over her face with a miserable groan. Last night was a blur: a brightly coloured, noisy, vodka-flavoured blur.  She could remember little from after her third drink, though from the sour smell in her room and the acrid taste of bile on her tongue, she could only deduce she’d thrown up.

“Maker, never again,” she whimpered.

Reaching out blindly, she managed to locate her phone on the bedside table and she cracked open her eyes just enough to peer at the screen. There were half a dozen missed calls from Max and Dorian and a handful of text messages, all of which were from Isabela. Surprised, she scrolled through her inbox and what she found made her smile in spite of her hangover

**< 12:49>** You’re a lightweight, you know that? x

**< 01:22>** Your flatmate just text me. Glad you’re home safe, Kitten. PS – He and your brother were totally getting it on tonight ;). I want details later. x

**< 11:56>** Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10, how rough do you feel right now? :P x

Evie huffed a sound that was part laugh, part groan. She typed out a brief reply - **< 13:44>** 12/10. Don’t ever let me drink again. X – before attempting to get up. Her head swam horribly, her stomach lurched and, for a moment, she thought she might be sick again. However, after several deep breaths, her body seemed to begrudgingly accept its new upright position. She trudged over to her bedroom door, tugging her robe artlessly from the hook on the back of it and throwing it over her underwear.

The flat was unusually quiet for a Sunday afternoon. The TV was off in the living room and the blinds were still drawn. She noted the tangled pile of blankets and pillows on the sofa and assumed that her brother must have only just gotten up too. It surprised her then when she found Dorian and not Maxwell in the kitchen. He was still in his lounge pants but his hair, moustache and make-up were immaculate.

“Ah, she surfaces at last,” he smirked as she wandered in.

Evie dropped onto one of the barstools with a whine, pulling up the hood of her robe to shield her eyes from the bright halogen lighting.

“I hate alcohol,” she croaked. Dorian laughed and he slid a mug of strong, black coffee in her direction.

“Feeling a little delicate, are we?”

“More than a little. What happened last night?”

Her flatmate plonked himself down on the stool next to her, his expression one of ill-concealed amusement

“Well,” he began, with an exaggeratedly deep breath, “You fell into a horrible mood, disappeared, and were brought back to us some time later blind drunk and barely able to stand. Your brother and I brought you home, where you proceeded to spend half the night throwing up.”

Evie groaned and scrubbed her hands down her face.

“Oh Maker… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. It wasn’t as though, living together, they hadn’t seen each other in vulnerable situations before, but this was something else. Her mother would be horrified. “Did you… clean my room?” she asked, hesitantly.

Dorian huffed out a laugh.

“Venhedis, no! That was Maxwell. He stayed with you too until you eventually passed out.”

Well, that was slightly less embarrassing. Maker knew she had seen Max in varying states of drunkenness before. Still, she was a little ashamed of herself. Getting herself trashed and wandering off in a mood was hardly responsible behaviour.

She took a tentative sip of her coffee, which was deliciously strong and only slightly sweet, before resting her head on the counter.

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” she groaned.

Dorian patted her reassuringly on the shoulder

“Happens to the best of us, my dear,” he counselled, kindly. Then, in a slightly more pointed tone, he added, “You did, however, cost me a night of passion. You owe me big for that.”

“Oh yeah,” murmured Evie, a small smile creeping onto her features. “Isabela said you two were all over each other. What happened?”

“Oh, you know, a few cocktails, a bit of kissing, a _lot_ of heavy petting. Perhaps a little too much considering the location but we couldn’t help ourselves.”

“So you two didn’t…?” Evie raised her eyebrows questioningly and was met with a regretful sigh.

“Sadly not. Apparently I was asleep by the time your brother had finished doting on you so he slept on the couch to avoid disturbing me.”

The redhead heaved a sigh. She felt guilty that they’d had to cut their fun short and yet… she supposed she was a little glad that it hadn’t just been a drunken mistake. That could have been an uncomfortable situation for all three of them

“Where is he now?” she asked, smothering a yawn.

“In the shower,” replied Dorian. Evie’s lips curled into a shrewd grin.

“Oh really! And you’re not in there with him because…?”

To her surprise, Dorian flushed, averting his eyes and staring very fixedly at his own coffee

“Because.” It was all he had to say. It was all he _needed_ to say.

“Oh sweet Maker,” Evie breathed and, in spite of her ringing head, she sat bolt upright, craning to get a better look at him. “Dorian… do you actually like him? As in _like him_?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Tevinter sniffed. He avoided her gaze but his discomfort was written all over his face.

“Oh, Dorian!!” she beamed and she slipped off her stool to fold him into a hug. “You are just too sweet! But really, stop fretting and just go for it. I know my brother and he is not going to turn you down.”

Dorian made a show of fighting off her embrace, muttering something about how she reeked of alcohol and fussing over his hair. The hopeful look in his eyes, however, when he next looked her way spoke volumes.

“Do you think so?” he asked, with a tentative smile

Evie clapped her hands together and she was about to reply that of course Maxwell would want to date him when a hammering on the door interrupted them. They both stared at each other, frowning.

“Visitors?” Dorian exclaimed “On a Sunday? How positively indecent! You aren’t expecting anyone, are you?”

Evie shook her head.

“Neither am I,” he murmured he slid off his seat with an exaggerated sigh. “Honestly,” he grumbled. “Do people not know it’s hangover day?”

He shuffled off towards the hallway, looking rather disgruntled at having his romantic life interrupted again. Evie hesitated, aware that she was still in her robe and not exactly looking fetching for it. However, her curiosity got the better of her and she followed after her flatmate, hanging back behind him.

The knocking came again before they could open the door. Standing in the corridor outside was a woman Evie had never seen before. She was tall, buxom and attractive, with a mane of golden waves that tumbled down to her waist. She regarded them through unnaturally long lashes, her expression a touch on the cold side.

“I’m looking for Maxwell Trevelyan,” she said, simply. “I’ve been led to believe he’s staying here?”

Dorian turned to look at Evie, his brows quirking upwards. The redhead was as surprised as he was but she recovered quickly, smiling at the woman just as her mother had taught her to do as a child.

“Yes, he is,” she said. “I’m his sister, Evie. I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met…?”

“Elise,” the blonde supplied. “I’m his girlfriend. Surely he mentioned I’d be coming…? Is he in?”

“His… girlfriend…” Evie repeated and it took all of her will not to gawk in sheer shock. Immediately, she glanced at Dorian, who seemed to have frozen with his hand around the door handle, expression flat, jaw gritted. Her heart sank. “Um, yeah, he’s here,” she muttered. “He’s just in the shower, though. Sorry, do you want to come in?”

Elise flashed them a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her icy blue eyes.

“Thanks,” she responded.  

Evie turned and led the way into the living room, hearing the door shut a few seconds later with a foreboding clunk. Her insides were squirming and this time it wasn’t a result of her own indulgence. Max had a girlfriend?! How?! How hadn’t he told her this? And how dare he be making a move on anyone, especially her friend, when he was involved with someone else? Maker, this was the last thing Dorian needed after Rileinus.

She opened the blinds and moved the blankets, making room for them all to sit down.

“Erm, can I get you a coffee or anything?” she asked the blonde, as she took up in one of their armchairs. “Tea? Water?”

“No thanks,” she answered, inspecting her manicured nails with an air of disinterest. “Would you mind just telling him I’m here?”

“Sure,” Evie shrugged. “I can just go and-”

Thankfully she was saved the trouble when the man himself wandered into the room, fully dressed and towel drying his hair.

“Maker’s balls, I am starving!” he exclaimed. “How about we head out for…”

His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the woman sitting in his usual seat, fussing over her appearance. He stopped in his tracks, eyes growing wide; he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Elise,” he croaked. “I… What are you doing here?”

Elise beamed at the sight of him and giggled, flipping her hair in a manner that Evie found to be frankly nauseating. Her stand-offish demeanour melted away like an ice-cream in the sun.

“Surprise!” she grinned. “I wasn’t due back for another fortnight but I just couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Maxwell looked nothing short of nonplussed.

“To see _me_?” he muttered. “I… I don’t understand. Why? How did you find me?”

“You said we should see each other again,” she shrugged. “And I did say I’d see about getting you a job in Daddy’s firm. Did you think I was just paying lip service?”

It was quite clear from the astounded and slightly alarmed expression on Max’s face that he’d thought precisely that. He was looking at Elise as one might an angry animal, with fear and uncertainty.

“I don’t suppose you two could give us some privacy?” he asked, in a calm, quiet voice that immediately has Evie concerned. She frowned at her brother, looking meaningfully from him to Elise and back again. Max merely nodded once, his expression leased, and she relented.

“Sure,” she murmured. “We’ll just get out of your hair.”

Taking a stony-faced Dorian by the wrist, she retreated to the kitchen again, making a point of closing the doors noisily behind them. The moment they were clear, she turned to her flatmate. He was leaning on the counter, looking for all the world like he’d just been physically punched.

“Dorian,” she breathed. “Dorian, don’t believe a word of it! You saw his face, he clearly didn’t ever expect to see her again.”

The Tevinter huffed out a derisive laugh.

“You think so?” he sneered. “He simply looked to me like a man who never expected to be caught. Maker, I know how to pick them…”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Evie laid a hand on his shoulder, looking up into his flint coloured eyes.

 

“I know my brother,” she assured him, slowly. “He is far from perfect but he would not to that.”

Dorian sighed but a little of his anger seemed to disperse.

“You seem sure,” he murmured.

Evie squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. She knew Max. He’d been a bit of a dog in his past, true, but he’d grown up a lot. He wouldn’t go around seducing other men if he had a girlfriend… would he? No, she insisted. No he wouldn’t; he was better than that now.

Just then, the sound of raised voices floated through the closed kitchen door. They were too muffled to be able to make out any words but it was clear that things in the living room were getting heated.

“Something’s not right here,” Evie muttered. “I just… he’s never mentioned any girls that he met whilst he was out travelling. Just a few one-night stands, that’s what he said. Why is she here?”

Shrugging his shoulders silently, Dorian brushed away and wandered over to the sink to refill the kettle. Evie sat back and watched without words as he moved about the kitchen, making herbal tea. She could hear talking and then more shouting from the living room. The urge to go to her brother’s aid was maddening to ignore. Yet he hadn’t asked for her help and she wasn’t about to insert herself into his business – she was not their mother. So she sat and she listened, not to eavesdrop exactly but to keep watch for any cue that she was needed to intervene.

Several minutes passed. Dorian handed her a mug of camomile tea and they stood side by side, waiting and listening. Things went quiet, eerily so, and they heard the slamming of a door from somewhere deeper within the flat. Evie turned to Dorian with a frown, seeing concern mirrored on her friend’s face. She set down her cup and was about to tear off in search of her brother when the kitchen door opened. Maxwell floated in, hunched over and looking incredibly wan. Evie’s heart quickened.

“Max?” she asked, gently. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Maxwell looked up at her and it seemed to take him a moment to actually focus on her face.

“It’s Elise,” he murmured, eventually. “She… she says she's pregnant. And the baby’s mine.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS... don't hate me for what happens just yet. You know I don't like sad endings so just trust me when I say this mess is not the end of them!


	6. Don't Tell Me 'Cause It Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxwell processes the bombshell and comes to a decision - one that Dorian can't say that he likes.

VI 

 

Don’t Tell Me ‘Cause It Hurts

  
  
  


Dorian slammed a mug down onto the drainer with a little more force than necessary. He loathed washing dishes by hand - they had a dishwasher for a reason, he would always argue - but right then, he needed something to do with his hands that wouldn’t result in Maxwell having a black eye. It also meant he didn’t have to look at the lying bastard, though he was sure as hell listening to every word of his conversation with Evie. 

 

“It was a one night stand,” Max groaned. “Nothing more! I never said anything about a relationship and I certainly never referred to her as my girlfriend!”

 

“Are you sure?” Evie asked. “I mean, I know you’ve never mentioned her to me but she certainly seems to think there’s something more between you than a quick fling.”

 

“Well, she made all these empty comments at the time - “Oh, we’ll have to catch up in Orlais”, “Your sister sounds like a doll, I’d love to meet her” - but I didn’t think she meant them. No one ever means them!”

 

“I guess… “ the redhead sighed. “But dammit Max, did you not think to use protection?!”

 

“We did use protection!” her brother insisted, hotly. “Obviously something went wrong…”

 

No shit, Dorian thought bitterly, as he viciously scrubbed at one of last night’s dinner plates. He could practically feel the tension of the room behind him, thick and oppressive, weighing heavy on his shoulders. The only small bit of comfort that he could glean from any of this mess was that Max did not sound at all happy. Whether that was a touch of sadism on his part or simply relief, Dorian couldn’t say. 

 

“Shit, what’s Mother going to say?” the elder Trevelyan muttered, after a long moment of silence. “And Father? Fuck, he’ll be beside himself! I swear, the man is just waiting for me to screw up, all the time. And he’s right! I am a massive mess. I can’t even have a bit of fun halfway across the world without it coming back to haunt me! Shit, I… I need to get out of here.”

 

There came the scrape of chair legs on the tiled floor, first one set, then the other.

 

“Max-”

 

Dorian glanced around to see Maxwell marching for the door and his sister trying her utmost to stop him. 

 

“No, Evie,” he huffed, brushing her off. “I need some time to think. Just… don’t wait up, yeah?” 

 

“Maxwell,” Evie beseeched him again but her brother shook his head. He moved her gently aside, disappearing through the kitchen door. Evie sighed and scrubbed a hand down her face. They heard the front door open and then slam shut again and they knew Maxwell had gone. 

 

“This is unbelievable,” the redhead muttered, leaning against the kitchen wall. “I knew Max was a bit reckless but this?” She she shook her head, folding her arms across her middle in a gesture that made her seem somehow smaller. Weary green eyes flickered Dorian’s way and she favoured him with a gentle, sympathetic look. “Are you alright?” she asked, softly. “This can’t be easy for you, either.” 

 

Dorian wrung out the dish cloth, setting it on the drainer and drying his hands. 

 

“I’m not sure how I feel,” he admitted. “Or even how I’m meant to feel. It’s all rather sudden.” 

 

Evie nodded, pulling her arms closer around herself.

 

“I think I’m going to take a bath and mull this over,” she sighed. “Will you be alright? You can grab a glass of wine and come sit with me if you want.” 

 

Dorian managed a thin smile, despite the fact that he felt strangely hollow. 

 

“Thank you but I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It’s your brother I’d be concerned about right now.” 

 

“I am,” she sighed. “Maker preserve us.” 

 

***

  
  


Dorian was staring at the television screen, several episodes into a binge of his favourite sitcom, when Maxwell eventually returned. 

 

It was early evening. The sky was just beginning to darken and Dorian’s growling stomach was prompting thoughts of what to do for dinner. Evie had been quiet and distant after her bath - not that he could blame her - so the Tevinter had left her to her thoughts and sought out a distraction of his own. It had worked, for a little while, though the romance playing out on screen had made his chest feel oddly tight. 

 

The uncomfortable sensation resurfaced when Max trudged into the room. He seemed almost surprised to see Dorian sitting there, though it was hard to tell given how quickly he averted his eyes. 

“Dorian,” he sighed. “I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually.” 

 

Dorian’s stomach lurched. He knew that tone and the cringing, pitying look that was paired with it. Somehow, even knowing that it was coming never quite prepared you for hearing it. 

 

“Ah, one of those conversations is it,” he smiled, bitterly. “I suppose I expected as much.” 

 

Maxwell grimaced. 

 

“It’s not like that,” he insisted. “I…” He hesitated, and it gave some Dorian some grim satisfaction to see him looking discomfited as he searched for the right words. After a moment, he sighed, sinking down onto the opposite arm of the sofa. “Shit, Dorian, I really like you,” he groaned, rubbing at his temples. “And you know I really wanted us to… you know… go somewhere. But I have to try and do the right thing here.” 

 

Dorian managed to swallow against the lump forming in his throat. 

 

“It’s fine,” he said softly, and it pleased him to hear that his voice sounded level, almost normal. Max blinked, clearly taken aback. 

 

“It...is?” 

 

“Of course,” shrugged Dorian. “What happened between us, well, it was a drunken fumble, was it not? A bit of fun. Nothing to worry about.” 

 

The words tasted bitter leaving his mouth. He plastered on a reassuring smile, even though he wanted nothing more than to sink into the sofa cushions. Max actually recoiled. 

 

“Um, yeah, I guess,” he frowned. “I kind of thought… you know what, never mind. Thanks. And I really am sorry.” He glanced at the door. “Is my sister around? I should really straighten things out with her too.”

 

“In her bedroom, I believe,” Dorian replied. “You’ve had her worried. I’d tread carefully were I you.” 

 

His lips tightened and Maxwell gave a huff that vaguely passed for a laugh. 

 

“Duly noted,” was his murmured reply, as he got to his feet. “If I’m not back in an hour, call the police.” 

 

Dorian huffed in turn, inclining his head. Only once Max was out of sight did he let loose a long, shuddering sigh. His eyes were prickling, the lump in his throat aching. Why, exactly, he was on the verge of tears, he had no idea, but he was certainly not about to indulge them - especially when Max was only a couple of doors away. No, he had to get out of there, preferably before anyone could see him on the verge of a meltdown. So, grabbing only the essentials, and with only a cursory glance at his appearance, he made his way out of the flat and towards the campus proper. 

 

The wind outside was refreshingly cold. Dorian relished its bite upon his skin and the way it soothed his roiling emotions. He was  _ such a fool _ . How,  _ how _ did he always do this? Truly, if falling for unavailable men was a marketable skill, he would be a millionaire by now. He should have been more careful after Rilienus. He should have gone for someone safe, someone he could keep at a comfortable distance. What had he been thinking, cosying up with his best friend’s brother? It was like a soap opera waiting to happen. 

 

He walked without any particular destination in mind. However, it hardly came as a surprise when his feet carried him to his old halls of residence. A vast network of buildings set in attractive parkland, this was where he had lived during his first year of study. He had fond memories of the place but, if he were honest with himself, it wasn’t memories that had brought him back. Apparently, old habits died hard. 

 

He was surprised and relieved to find that Bull was actually in. 

 

“Uh-oh. I know that face.” 

 

The qunari stood back from the door, allowing Dorian room to come inside. Dorian shook his head.

 

“Actually, I’d rather go out, if you don’t mind,” he muttered. “I’m in need of a drink. Are you on duty?” 

 

The Iron Bull smiled. 

 

“My day off, as it happens,” he grinned. “Being head of security has it perks.” He plucked his heavy leather jacket off the coat stand, shrugging it on. “Did you have anywhere in mind?” 

 

“The campus bar is fine,” replied Dorian. “Preferable, if fact. The drinks are cheaper.” 

 

Bull chuckled and shook his enormous head. 

 

“One of those days, huh, Vint?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY TO HAVE LEFT THIS SO LONG. 
> 
> I won't bore you all with the details but let's just say that depression and writer's block are a hell of a combination. I'm in a better place now, though, so hopefully I can pick up with regular updates! 
> 
> Just a heads up, this had been posted unedited as I was so eager to get it up here! I'm going to come back and look over it tomorrow but if you notice any errors, please feel free to point them out, I shan't be offended! 
> 
> To anyone who comes back and reads this after all this time - THANK YOU! You are far kinder than I deserve.


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